“Vulture in Flight” by Wingsdomain
riding thermals
circling summer-hot stones
all the pretty vultures
From my books Bullets from Bones and Riverthink
Civil War
All posts tagged Civil War
Detail of the Robert Gould Shaw Memorial by Augustus Saint-Gaudens
finest monument in the land
Massachusetts fifty-fourth
volunteers under Robert Gould Shaw
first negro regiment forged
in the flames that flew from the
principled penstroke of Lincoln
distinguished in battle and
covered by glory immortalized in
bronze relief proudly marching
across poignant borderland
leaving behind profane chains
for a freedom graced future
what the sculptor never knew
was how unnecessarily wide
and besieged was that crossing
how painfully far lay that future
(original posted June 2013)
“High Tide” by Mort Kunstler
on the third day
did Longstreet and Lee
order forward
their seminary line
across stark open ground
to wrest hold of
that aptly named
cemetery ridge
Pickett fixed on a copse
overstanding a jog
in a fortified wall
mad rebel yell charge
under crossfiring shells
hails of minie balls flew
from the flames shot by
Springfields Enfields and Sharps
just a few gray-sleeved arms
reached their sabers
to breach the blue wall
but were quickly repulsed
from this high water mark
this sharp bloody angle
confederacy
forever receded
From my book Bullets from Bones
“Lydia Leister’s Orchard – A Gettysburg Farm” by Mary Maxam
(Originally posted June 2013)
Time to be lazy, shriven of duty
Loll in a rowboat out on a lake
Head at rest on the transom
Hand over the side
Fingering ripples. Breathe in the fruity
Fragrance perfumers never well fake
Sky serene blue and handsome
Clouds hover and glide
Such dog days Twain gave to Sawyer and Finn
Cast them abroad in pure innocent
Sun filled adventures of boys
Life lay at bare feet
Gentle genius the hand whose pen made spin
Pleasant yarns so soon since cannon rent
Union with uncivil noise
Dead lay in each street
Summer seems not the right time for despair
It’s too lovely and too warm to cry
Best not remember too much
Just let drift the oar
Summer should not hear the soldier in prayer
It’s too lovely and too warm to die
Gun barrels burn to the touch
In season of war
“Guernica” by Pablo Picasso
the beating Basque heart
still alive in stout oaks
of medieval assembly
no longer to broach
flesh and blood revolution
its body voice long ago
burned to blown flyash by
bombs of a Spanish born
nazi regime of convenient
atrocity merely to gain
for brief moment a patch
of strategic geography
but for a townful of
ancient berets hung on
pegs in proud houses
that stood in the way
yet the heart and the
trees the iconic arkbola
survive still in bright
Biscay sun bearing
gleam of their undeterred
robust affront to the
dead face of tyranny
Devil’s Den Battlesite – Gettysburg PA
riding thermals
circling summer-hot stones
all the pretty vultures
“American Civil War” by Zeana Romanovna
what possessed men
to stoically stand
against volleys of hellfire
three-pounder gallopers
six-pounder mortar shells
musket balls filling the air
tearing holes in dun deerskin
and homespun clad hearts
ripping red coated limbs
from their disciplined torsos
contention of manifest empire
versus incipient rage for
a raw unequivocal liberty
what possessed men
to stubbornly stand
against volleys of hellfire
howitzers smooth-bore napoleons
carriage wheeled long rifled cannon
dread minié balls filling the air
ranks of blue and gray infantry
shoulder to shoulder
advanced face to face across
killing fields run red with blood
contention of union preserved
without slavery versus a flawed
ingrained moral tradition
what possessed men
to sacrifice body and breath
in the name of intangible
principle even when
not always well understood
a mistake would be made
to judge warriors lightly
compelled as they were
by believing in something
defending of something
transcendent of self
common men raised by death
to uncommon nobility
“1st Minnesota at Gettysburg”
Painting by Don Troiani
From wikimedia.org
set piece arrangements
put army to army
formations of infantry
long-gunned and lined
face to face across fields
unaccustomed to death
the blue and the gray
dropped like flies under
withering mutual hail of
the cursed new minié ball
long bones and linkages
shattered and splintered
would macerate slowly
in battleground blood
till the sawbones
came round to his
grisly sworn duties
and made of young torn
ragged limbs ugly piles
the terrible waymarks
of principles pressed
to their ultimate conflict
and cost without daring
to leave us with proper
stone monuments
chiseled with arms and
with legs given up by
one lost generation to
a history fraught with
beleaguering consequence
“Refugees”
Painting by Sooraj Kannan
From fineartamerica.com
fleeing the bleeding
sectarian sands
the children of war
born from dreams
of the late Arab spring
struggle desperate trails
for the Bosporus isthmus
and Dardanelles straits
crowding fearfully into
mean ill-suited seacraft
of ancient Turk apathy
begging for passage across
the divide of the Hellespont
flesh and blood cargoes
the chattel of schism
internecine iron age
conflicts that shook
and then cracked
the five pillars of Islam
fleeing the bleeding
sectarian sands
the children of war
seek some respite
some tolerant haven
however reluctant
unfriendly and alien
wanting at least
and hoping no more
than a relative peace
a desired sense of safety
among more enlightened
of secular nations
with eyes that can see
past the difference
of cultures and continents
Map of Korea
Illustration from news.bbc.co.uk
I remember the DMZ
cinching the ideological
waist of an ancient
peninsular orient
a bifurcate culture
scarred deeply by
war with itself
blood on blood
born of armistice
four clicks of memory
crossed by patrols
of imported mistrust
this precarious swath
holds its breath
against fear of
exhaling new fire
and the new fire
pent up so long
has developed
a nuclear heat
I remember it
through my binoculars
watching the other side
watching me back
Poesy plus Polemics 